Failing at Avoiding the Gossip Group
by Quinis
Summary: Neal's extended family love popping up in his life. Neal would like them to stop doing it on FBI time. That's not going to happen.


**Failing at Avoiding the Gossip Group**

* * *

Prompt StoryReader12:

Dick hanging out in New York as Neal is a secret to exactly no one in the hero/villain community. Cue all of his aunts and uncles coming to check up on him They're less subtle than they think they are. Peter is suspicious, Neal is exasperated, and Bruce, aka Batman, aka most protective dad award winner for twenty years and counting, is amused. Bonus: Catwoman and/or Talia show up and Neal calls them mom. Bonus 2: Slade thinks this means Neal is finally ready to be his apprentice.

 **Notes:** I didn't end up writing White Collar reactions on Neal being Dick. Instead this is what I ended up writing: Neal meeting up with other heroes (and Catwoman. And Deathstroke). Blame any mistakes on my being burnt out from Nanowrimo.

* * *

A flash of orange at the corner of his eye had Neal stiffening. Mozzie looked up from his hit list and then around the bar. He didn't see anyone who could be a problem, except for the old man with the drink. He held himself like ex-military and Mozzie took the eyepatch as a sign of a fighter.

"Hello Mister Caffrey."

Mozzie pat himself on the back as the pepper-haired old man with the drink walked over and smoothly leaned over the back of their booth. Neal edged away from him, keeping him from whispering in his ear.

Neal responded with some very adult language, ordering the old man to go away. Mozzie had never heard that word pass Neal's lips before, let alone the venom in his friend's voice.

"You're scaring your little informant," the man said in a sickly sweet voice. He took a sip of his amber drink and gave Neal a pointed look.

"Why are you here?" Neal responded, not even looking at the man. Mozzie was impressed but also feared for his friend's sense of self-preservation.

"Can't a guy get a drink before a job?"

Now Neal turned to glare at the man and Mozzie felt glued to his seat. Any other time, he would have already taken one of the many exits out of here and holed up in one of his safe-houses. However, Neal gave off the air of someone who knew exactly what was going on and was in control of the whole situation.

"For the kind of work you do?" Neal said in distaste, "whatever helps you sleep at night."

"I must say, good job with the Tamayo Painting. What are you hoping to fund?"

"None of your business."

The man pulled out a gun, pointed down, and moved to close to Neal. "I think you're ready to use one of these."

"I'm not going to use a gun." Neal glared. "I'm a conman or didn't you get the memo?"

"You've stepped away from the light into the grey. It fits. I'm just encouraging you to do what you want and join with me as my apprentice. I'll teach you everything you need to know."

"No."

"Neal's learning under me," Mozzie interrupted. The man stared at him and Mozzie puffed his chest out. He wasn't going to lose to some creep.

The man turned back to Neal. "Call me when you ditch this guy. There are many shades of grey."

Neal rolled his eyes as the man left.

"Who was that?" Mozzie asked. A moment later, he wished he hadn't. He discovered that he had stared down Deathstroke the Terminator.

* * *

It was a regular day in White Collar. They had just closed a case and everyone was feeling good about it.

A brown haired, broad-shouldered man popped through the glass doors. He looked around, expression overwhelmed as he looked for an agent to help him.

"E-excuse me," he stammered to Diana. "Do you know where Agent Burke is?"

"His office is just up there," Diana said, pointing. She watched him go curiously. "Hey Jones, any reason why a reporter might want to talk to Peter?"

"The latest case?"

"Maybe."

Peter and Neal looked up in unison as Clark Kent knocked and let himself in.

"Hi. I'm Clark Kent of the Daily Planet."

"Hi 'Clark Kent of the Daily Planet," Neal repeated, copying Clark's tone and grinning all the while. Peter reached over and used his file to bat Neal on the head in warning. The last thing they needed was a reporter deciding they were bad news and publishing terrible stories about them.

"How can we help you?" Peter said.

"With the recent case, I was wondering if I could shadow you and write an article on what it's like in the day of the life of an FBI agent."

"I'm not exactly the typical agent," Peter said. "Most agents don't have CIs like Neal."

"Neal Caffrey," Clark said with a nod at Neal. There was a pause and Peter wondered what it was about. There was something between these two and it worried him. Neal having a contact in the news might be why he seemed to drop off the map at times. "I have heard about you. Is it true what they say?"

"What do they say?" Neal asked, fluttering his eyes. Peter shook his head. Neal was hopeless.

"That you can charm anyone into anything."

Neal laughed. "I wish! I am the best conman though, so I guess there's some truth in that."

"Nice to meet you," Clark said.

"I can't con Clark," Neal said after the reporter left. He was going to return the next day and join them for the day.

"Why not?" Peter asked, curious as to why Neal was so certain about that.

"You can't con an honest man and Clark's as honest as they come."

Peter would learn the next day that Neal was right. Clark Kent was the very definition of nice guy. Peter watched the man calm a crying child. Neal gave the kid an origami crane while Clark chatted away and told funny stories about his coworkers... and Neal. He wondered where Clark got the idea of Neal swinging on a chandelier and breaking a ming vase.

* * *

Jones' mouth had dropped to the floor. Neal was grinning madly. Diana was moments away from squealing.

Peter cleared his throat, gathered his questions and walked into the interview room.

"I do apologise for this Ms. Prince," he said to the imposing woman sitting in the chair. Her dark hair was tied back and she sat with a straight back.

"It is fine. Call me Diana. You have questions, Agent Burke?"

Peter figured she had heard his name in passing. "I do." He just never figured he would be asking Wonder Woman these questions. But she had been present when their suspect had vanished.

"Your associates are rather energetic," Diana commented with a smile and a glance at the mirror.

Peter sighed. It didn't take a genius to guess that there were people out there, probably all excited over Wonder Woman being in the room. "Excuse me."

Neal's was not the face he expected to see when he opened the door but Peter's planned response didn't change. "Tell everyone to get back to work."

"Do you really think they'd listen to me?" Neal questioned with a raise eyebrow. Yes, for some reason. Neal was just like that. Even now, Neal was somehow pushing past his defences and into the room. "Hi Diana."

"Hello Neal. I assure you, our meeting is coincidence."

"Uh-huh." Neal didn't sound sure of that. Peter began wondering if Neal had done something in the past to attract Diana's attention. He couldn't think of any crimes related to the Amazons but that didn't mean they didn't exist.

Diana smiled at him. "You are as suspicious as your father."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Please don't mention him."

Peter snapped to attention at that. He didn't know anything about Neal's family and yet, Diana Prince knew Neal's father. Neal's response wasn't one of dislike as well. It was of fond frustration, as if Neal just didn't want him mentioned in Peter's earshot. His thoughts were confirmed as Neal and Diana Prince glanced at him before turning their conversation to unrelated things like what brought her to New York.

* * *

Peter lifted up the police tape and Neal ducked under it. They carefully walked over the smashed glass and into the building.

"Why are we here?" Neal questioned as they looked around at all the agents.

"Honestly? You wanted out of the office for a couple of hours and NYPD called in a favour to get us to look through this guy's financials."

That sounded like a dull job. Neal would probably have to make sure Peter remembered to eat and go home on time. He looked around as Peter spoke to the officer in charge and received the files he needed for his part. Meanwhile, Neal had figured out that this had not been an ordinary attack.

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm late," Barry Allen came dashing through the door.

"Mr Allen-"

"I know! I know," Barry sighed.

The agent in charge frowned but said, "we were told to expect as much. You have a reputation for being late but you are also good at what you do."

"Uh yes!" Barry glanced around. "It's a little early to tell but this does look like a metahuman attack."

Barry's and Neal's eyes met. They both grinned at each other. However, a Flash's brain didn't always run fast.

"Dick! Hi! What are you doing here?" He realised the instant he said it and Neal stiffened that he had said the wrong thing. "Uh... ops."

"Dick?" Peter questioned in suspicion but also amusement. Neal wondered if he could just have Peter forget this somehow.

"Come on, what'd I do to get insulted the moment we meet?" Neal said to Barry. "I think I'd remember conning a mousy cop."

"Actually, I'm a forensic investigator, not a cop," Barry recited.

Peter wasn't having it. "I can see why you go by Neal."

"There's nothing wrong with Dick," Neal said.

"Unless you say it in sentences like that," Peter countered. "Diana would have a field day with this."

"Diana?"

"She's an agent on Peter's team." Neal's tone made it clear that he was a little annoyed with Barry.

"Sorry for blowing your cover," Barry sighed. "I mean, I can't remember what name you took for this."

"Neal. I'm Neal Caffrey," Neal sighed. "You could have waited until I introduced myself." Barry slapped his forehead. He hadn't thought of that.

"Don't tell your father. He'll have my head and then he'll send Robin to make sure I'm dead and then drop me into the pits to be revived or something."

"Aren't you all reporting back to them anyway?" Neal said. And why did everyone keep referring to Bruce as 'his father'?

"Nope. I'm here to shadow NYPD and learn from other cops," Barry said with a grin.

Neal crossed his arms. Barry twitched. Neal narrowed his eyes. Peter wondered if he needed to blink yet.

"Okay, I'll probably tell him about this," because superheroes were enormous gossips, "but this meeting wasn't planned."

* * *

Peter placed a printout of Neal's tracking data in front of him. It showed his anklet pinging inside Wayne Enterprises' building a couple of streets away.

"Why are you hanging out at Wayne Enterprises when we send you for coffee?"

"They have good coffee and it's for anyone," Neal said. "Doesn't matter if you work there or not."

"Neal," Peter sighed. "This is serious."

"Jones comes with me."

"He always loses track of you! Neal, this can be counted as running. If anything happens at Wayne Enterprises, you're back in prison and I'll be lucky to keep my job."

"Nothing will happen."

"Then why are you going there?"

"Someone I know works there. I go and talk to him." Neal didn't mention that it was the big man himself, Bruce Wayne. Besides, it wasn't like their talks were productive. Bruce was still keeping his smug air of 'I know everything' and it didn't help that he did thanks to his gossip group. Neal knew that Bruce was amused by the Justice League's appearances in New York.

Bruce seemed to have little interest in preserving Neal's identity. Even though it was great to see Clark, Diana Prince and Barry, Peter was getting too suspicious. Peter was the kind of person who dug until they had an answer and the kind of person who had accurate hunches. The worst combination for someone trying to keep a secret. Neal had tried threatening to tell Peter everything but even that didn't faze Bruce.

Peter was probably going to find out, it was only a matter of time. However, that didn't mean Neal was going to hand him the answers. Not unless he had to go through with the threat to Bruce.

* * *

Selina leaned across the table.

"I assure you, I'm not the naughty girl you're looking for," she purred, fingers dancing towards Peter. Neal was slightly disgusted and annoyed at the behaviour. Selina had Bruce and Peter had El. This was a stupid show for the FBI which wasn't necessary.

He opened the door to the interrogation room. Peter's mouth opened to scold him but Neal was quicker to speak.

"Hi, Mum," he said to Selina with a grin. "What would Dad think if he saw you now?"

"I think you'd throw him off just by calling him 'Dad'," Selina responded, slipping back into her seat. The _femme fatale_ act faded into something a little more real.

"You know each other," Peter sighed, throwing his hands into the air. "Of course."

Selina looked Neal up and down, a look of realisation dawning on her face. "Neal Caffrey, huh? So, you're the one who took my ring."

"I was going to give it to a girl," Neal sighed. "That didn't go so well."

"There's a lovely red-haired woman who I think would appreciate a McNally Solitaire."

Neal shook his head but, "maybe one day. You know this means I won't give it back to you."

Selina waved him off. She didn't need that ring. It was worth over 2 million dollars but she commended Neal for being able to steal it from her personal collection by letting him keep it.

"Okay, either give me enough information to arrest one of you or focus on this case," Peter said. "We're missing a cat statue with gems for eyes and the museum is kicking up a fuss."

"I can help you get it back," Selina said. "As can Neal's 'dad'. He's on his way."

Neal groaned. Of course he was.

* * *

All the agents seemed to share the same thought as Bruce Wayne walked through the door. It was a collective 'oh no'. No one wanted to deal with airheaded billionaires.

Peter came out with Selina and Neal in tow. He took one look at Bruce and gave a pained expression.

"Really?" he asked the two criminals behind him.

"Really," the answered in unison.

Peter turned back to Bruce Wayne. "I hear you're here to help." He hoped that meant that FBI and not Selina.

"Hi honey," Selina purred, lacing her hands over Bruce's head and pressing up close. Bruce held her by the hips and the agents all thought they would be treated to a gross show of 'affection'.

What they didn't expect was for Bruce to scowl at her.

"Get your hand off my wallet," he said in a low tone to Selina. Selina slipped her right hand out of his back pocket, grinned and danced away.

"I guess the direct approach just doesn't work on you," she praised.

"I think she left a hair on your jacket," Neal said, reaching out.

Peter fixed Neal with a glare which froze the agents behind him on the stop, it was so cold.

"Neal, if you dare try for my wallet, you're babysitting Damian for a month."

Neal paused and grinned. "That's a weak threat. I happen to like babysitting Damian."

"You'll have to bring him on cases with you."

"I'll find a way to make it work. Besides, my covers' blown."

Peter sighed and pushed his way past Bruce and Neal to get a pen from Neal's desk. Bruce paused. Neal laughed.

"I apologise Mr Wayne," Peter said, holding up Bruce's wallet. "I figured it was safer in my possession than either of those two."

"That's for sure. Not that either of them need it to spend my money," Bruce joked. "And I assume you win a prize?"

There was a silent agreement between Selina and Neal. Not that Neal used a lot of Bruce's money in his day to day life.

Although Neal regretted promising Peter that he would tell him everything if he managed to lift Bruce's wallet. He hadn't expected Peter to actually go through with it.

The agent had gained both Selina's and Bruce's respect.


End file.
